


Frosted Tips.

by TacoTuesday



Series: Saints Row: Boss Bunny. [4]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Backstory, Best Friends, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hair Dyeing, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TacoTuesday/pseuds/TacoTuesday
Summary: How Johnny lost his frosted tips.(This is just a bit of fun)
Series: Saints Row: Boss Bunny. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935127
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Frosted Tips.

Boss’ eyes widened as she stared at the sight of her fucking roots. What the fuck? Why the fuck? How the fuck? She thought, rushing forward to the mirror before touching at the strands with wide eyes. 

Orange. Luminous fucking orange. 

She all but screamed in her mind as she began to section it, checking over every strand. They were all fucking orange. “Shaundi!” Boss screamed as she turned, looking at the girl with the bottle still in hand. “What the fuck?!” 

  
  


Shaundi shook her head, frowning. “I don’t know Boss, I don’t know!” She cried out, stepping forward. “I can try again!” Try again? Boss will have no fucking hair by the end of it. Boss shook her head, hands covering her eyes as she gasped out. What was she going to do? She was supposed to make public appearances tonight but she couldn’t, looking like this. She looked like a piece of candy corn, the light physically reflecting from the wet strands as she contemplated. 

“It’s not that bad, we’ll just dye the rest orange.” Shaundi tried to reason, but Boss shook her head. 

  
  


“Do you know how long it took me to get this icy blonde?” She whined. “Dark hair isn’t easy hair to dye platinum.” She muttered. It was probably half the reason why it went bright fucking orange. 

  
  


"Then we'll dye it dark and bleach it another time." The dark eyes widened again, her head shaking furiously. 

  
  


Absolutely not. "Dark hair dye is not going on this hair Shaundi, we'll just have to…" Boss didn't know as she turned, her brows dipping, a hint of a crease on her forehead as she bit on her lip. Was there anything but bleach to put on it? 

  
  


Shaundi shook her head. "Look, we'll buy a bottle of purple shampoo, Boss. We got this." She sighed, but nodded as she stared at it. "I'll go out now. You stay here." There wasn't much she could do as Shaundi left her, Boss' eyes watering. 

Her hair was so important to her and now she felt she ruined it as she touched the brassy hair. They did the same steps they had done every time, she just didn't understand what went so wrong this time. Reaching for one of the beanie hats on the side, Boss slid it over the strands, pouting slightly at the sight. 

She looked a mess, like her thirteen year old self who'd messed around with a blonde that wasn't blonde enough. Gods, how was she going to handle this. 

Boss bit down on her lip as she sank down onto the sofa, tucking her knees beneath her chin. Tonight was supposed to be important, a year anniversary of the Saints taking over once again; as Boss, she should be there. 

But her hair. 

It was too late to book a salon appointment, only four hours to go until the party. She sighed, resigning herself to crappy hair as the door opened, Shaundi entering back in. 

  
  


She smiled. "Here, Boss." A purple toner and purple shampoo. "Get your ass back in the bathroom, and we'll do it." 

Boss was sat on a stool as Shaundi continued to pour the purple over the strands, running it through with precision as she bit on her lip. A bubble of nerves built in the pit of her stomach as she watched, hoping the orange would tone down. It wasn't seeming likely as they shifted to a murky brown, Boss' eyes lifting to Shaundi who frowned. "We just gotta leave it for a bit." She murmured, not entirely sure herself. 

  
  


Boss nodded, unusually quiet as a permanent frown fixed itself on her face. "It's getting late, you need to get ready yourself, don't you?" She asked gently, glancing back at the girl. 

  
  


"I can stay here, Boss, if you need me." Shaundi tried to argue, but Boss shook her head. 

  
  


"It's fine, you've got to make a presence. You have a new show coming out, no?" She nodded. It was part of Saints becoming a corporation, turning from a street gang to a million dollar company that could easily hide the discretions of their members by popularity. It worked out in their favour really. 

  
  


Shaundi nodded. "I'm happy to stay though." 

  
  


But Boss shook her head. "No, it's alright. Go get ready, I'm sure you'll look stunning." Shaundi sent Boss a nervous smile.

  
  


"I expect to see you there Boss, otherwise I'll drag you." Shaundi called out as she left, Boss remaining in the bathroom. She knew eventually she'd have to wash off the purple, her nerves only eating her further as she stood.

An old, ratty t-shirt of Troy's remained on her shoulders as she hesitated at the sink. Raising on tip toes as she moved her head this way and that way, staring at the strands. They were definitely darker, she thought, frowning slightly as she stepped back, flicking on the shower and peeling off the shirt. 

Bunny stood beneath the warm water, letting it wash through as she rubbed in more shampoo before rinsing it out. She prayed it wouldn't look a mess as she conditioned, closing her eyes as the last of the suds ran free. She shut off the water, and stepped out, glancing at the mirror. 

She wanted to cry as she saw the mottled orange fade into a darker grey, green shade. The blonde patchier than before even if it wasn't dry. It felt like such a stupid thing to cry over, but the upkeep of her hair meant so much to her. It was one of the first decisions she had made when she'd moved out of her strict mom's house; and her brother had loved it. 

Boss frowned. She wasn't going to go, she couldn't as she pushed the strands back, pulling on her old t-shirt before slipping into the living room and flopping down. At least here no one could see her, she'd be safe until she could find someone to do her hair. 

But it was a shame she'd miss the first anniversary of the Saints. shade. Gods, did it look so bad. Something rattled as Boss’ head turned, eyes turning to the door as she heard the front one slam. Who the fuck was that? She reached forward, peeling open the door as she saw Johnny stood there, one hand in hair, the other holding a kit for frosted tip. 

  
  


He had to be kidding her, she thought, eyes widening. “Hey, I know it’s super late notice, and I thought you’d be gettin’ ready but my tips are growin’ and no one’s here to dye them for me.” His eyes turned to her, the dark gaze widening as he took it Boss’ figure, the red rimmed eyes and the green strands running through the platinium. “What the fuck happened to you?” 

  
  


She buckled, teeth finding her lip again as she shook her hair. “I tried to do my roots, but they went orange.” She mumbled unhappily. 

  
  


“You can fuckin’ say that again.” He muttered, stepping past the couch and stopping in front of her, fingers grasping the wet strands. “What are you goin’ to do?” 

  
  


Her knee wobbled, head shaking. “There’s nothing I can do, I’m just going to stay in.” Boss mumbled, admitting defeat as she reached for the box of hair dye in his hands. “So tips, yeah?” She asked, meeting his gaze. 

  
  


“Boss, you can’t stay in; this is the Saints’ first anniversary; what anniversary would it be without their leader?” Johnny asked, passing it to her anyway as he stared down. 

  
  


She sighed. “You’ll still be there, so will Shaundi, and Pierce; no one will even notice.” Now if she was going to do his tips before it started, she needed to do it now. The previous tips had almost grown out complete as he left his hair natural, the strands dancing at his cheekbones. “Come to the bathroom.” 

  
  


Johnny slowly trailed behind in disbelief. “No one will notice - of course people will notice if you’re not there." He grumbled behind her, entering the bathroom not long after as she stood at the sink. The dark eyes swept the box, teeth digging into her lip as she focused on the instructions. 

  
  


"It doesn't matter, Johnny. I've made my decision." Bunny uttered before pulling out the contents. A set of gloves, the dye, a bowl, and a brush. "Sit on the seat, and I'll do it." 

  
  


He shook his head. "I'm not goin' without you, Boss." Johnny said stubbornly, glaring down at her. 

  
  


Bunny stood her ground, raising a brow. "Do as I say Gat." 

  
  


"No, I ain't goin' if you ain't goin'." He told her. "We can just go with shitty hair together, wear some hats, it's not a big deal." 

  
  


Not a big deal? He was one to talk with his perfect dark hair, no one could even tell he had ever bleached them if it weren't for the hinted tips at the very end. "Johnny, it's not a place to wear hats and your hair looks fine as it is." He reached up, running his fingers through as the dark eyes took it in. 

  
  


"You really think it looks, aight?" Johnny muttered as he turned, feeling the strands slip through his fingers. He was lucky it was so long and shiny, healthy. 

  
  


Bunny nodded, pursing her lips. "Yeah, it's a little longer than usual but… it looks really nice." And she meant it as she smiled at him. 

  
  


"Oh." He said. "I guess, if I don't need the tips, you can use the kit for yours." Using the kit for hers? Would that even work? 

  
  


"I don't know, Johnny. Are you sure you wanna skip the tips?" They were his signature look along with the purple shirt and shades. 

  
  


He nodded, pushing back the fallen locks as he glanced down at her. "I could do with a change, it's been awhile…" Gat uttered, not entirely sure. "Besides, I'm happy to skip them if it means you're going to the party." 

  
  


Bunny hesitated. "I don't want it to fry, Johnny." 

  
  


He sent her a smile, the one grin telling her everything would be okay as he set her down. "You go bald, I go bald." He promised, before motioning her to mix the paste. Bunny dropped her head, biting at the smile that threatened her cheeks as she reached for it. Trust Johnny. 

  
  


"You're gonna make one ugly ass baldie." She teased; Johnny gently pushed on her head, knocking her forward slightly. 

  
  


She glared, but passed him the bowl. "You're one to talk." They sat in silence for a moment as Gat began to pull apart the hair, brushing in the paste as he went. 

  
  


"Where did you learn how to do this?" Bun asked, curious as his frown deepened in concentration, his eyes focused on the task at hand. 

  
  


Johnny shrugged. "I struggled doin' the highlights myself for a little while, early 2000s Gat was…" He cringed, Bunny's grin growing. "My mom was right to hit me with her flipflop, growing out a bowl cut and then the tips…" 

  
  


She gasped. "Not a bowl cut!" She squealed, imagining a little Johnny. 

  
  


Gat laughed. "Yeah. Me and my sister had matching, family members used to wonder who was who." 

  
  


"You don't talk about them often." In fact, hardly ever from what she could remember. It was only in brief passing that Johnny ever spoke about his mom, or his sister; his dad only cropping up a handful of times. Privacy had always been important amongst the Saints, despite living and dying together. Not everyone chose to share their family, or where they were from. That was the good thing about being in a gang, they formed their own mismatched family. 

  
  


"Sometimes things just gotta be kept separate from the gang, ya know?" She knew. "She'd like you, by the way; my mom." 

  
  


A brow rose. "Really?" 

  
  


Johnny's lips turned up to a coy smile, his head nodding. "Yeah, if we were in school she would have forced me to invite you over for dinner, and made sure I walked you home everyday." It made her feel warm and fuzzy as she grinned at him. 

  
  


They fell back into silence as Johnny continued to pull apart the hair, running the bleach across her roots in a gentle fashion before he finished. "Thanks." She mumbled. 

  
  


"You got it." The pair stared at each other as they waited, Johnny half leaning across the side, and Boss sitting with her back against the seat. 

  
  


"My mom's the same, by the way." She began, deep browns finding a crack in the floor. "Growing up she was super strict, so my first ever act of rebellion was bleaching it." Her head shook, smile playing at the edges of her lips. "It went bright orange, and she was furious. Made me live with my brother until it faded a little or I could dye it again." 

  
  


"Shit." He mumbled, smiling slightly. "Did playa live here or…?" 

  
  


Bunny shook her head. "No, he was living in Vladivostok where our grandmother was." And that was only for a few short years before she passed away and they returned to Michigan. 

  
  


“Vladivostok? Where the fuck is that?” Johnny asked, unfamiliar with the name. 

  
  


“It’s a small city on the other side of Russia, it borders North Korea and Japan.” She mumbled. It was a generally quiet city, not much to do; but it was nice to fly from Vladivostok to Moscow or Saint Petersburg. 

  
  


He flinched, brows dipping. “Wait, you’re tellin’ me you come from Russia? You’ve got no accent, or nothin’.” 

  
  


Boss shook her head. “I mean, my grandmother is Russian, and we only lived over there for a few years to care for her before moving back. Both my mother and father were born over here, and so were we. Lived just outside Stilwater right up until we moved.” Johnny’s face only turned more to flabberghast as he couldn’t wrap his head around it. “It’s not big deal, Johnny.” 

  
  


“But that means we could have come across each other, Playa and I were the same age - could have easily gotten mixed up with the same crowd.” He seemed surprised. 

  
  


“You got mixed up with the same crowd in the end - just a shame some of the wrong people also got mixed up in that crowd.” Maybe if things had gone right, and they’d met earlier; her brother would still be here leading the Saints, living some form of life rather than lying dead in the cemetery. 

  
  


“Julian may be dead, but I don’t forgive him in the slightest.” Johnny told her, before settling a warm hand on her shoulder and squeezing. “Playa was one of the best.” He was, she thought, nodding; her throat thick as slowly, she grinded her teeth. 

  
  


The brown eyes flickered up. “I think it’s ready to wash out now.” She mumbled, before standing, Johnny’s hand falling away as he nodded. 

  
  


“I’ll be in the living room.” He told her, motioning behind him with his thumb as she nodded. Boss was slow to peel the shirt off again, heading for the shower once more as she turned it on, hot water flooding from the pipes. 

She stepped beneath, letting the water cascade over her body before moving her head under. Her scalp was burning just a little as her fingers ran through the strands, washing it free as the grains touched at her fingertips. She prayed this had worked, that Johnny hadn’t just wasted his kit and his tips for her sake as slowly, the water began to run clear and she smoothed the strands with conditioner. 

Stepping out once more, she wrapped a towel around her frame before approaching the mirror. The strands were an ice white, a cooler blonde than usual as they almost ran an almost pure white. Her brows rose, before a smile filled her face. It looked alright. She thought, nodding. 

  
  


Boss made her way to the living room, standing before Johnny with her hair. “What do you think?” She asked nervously. 

  
  


He grinned. “Looks great.” Relief flooded her system as she nodded, smiling widely at him. 

  
  


“I just need to change and then we’ll leave.” She told him, before turning to her room. 

  
  


Johnny waited patiently, his eyes drifting to the clock every now and then before the door pulled open and Boss stood before him. Her new hair was pin straight, split at the centre to frame her face as a bright red lipstick coated her lips; making her olive skin and deep brown eyes look alive. But the dress, an equal white to her hair, stood out amongst her figure as long legs stood on tall him. Wow, he thought, nodding at her. She looked good. “You ready?” She asked. 

  
  


“Sure, you want me to drive?” Bunny agreed, watching as Johnny stood before grasping his keys. He’d managed to secure back the dark hair, slicked against him; it suited him, she thought. 

  
  


Johnny unlocked the car before sitting in the seat, Bunny joining just beside him as she glanced over. His brow was furrowed, his hand not pushing in the key as his eyes stared out to the distance. “Gat, you alright?” She asked, frowning herself slightly the longer he sat there. 

  
  


It was quiet, his teeth gently nibbling at the inside of his lips. “Do you think I should go?” He asked. 

  
  


What was he on about? “What? Johnny, of course you should go.” 

  
  


The dark eyes dropped beneath the shade, his hands falling into his lap. “But Eesh.” Everything clicked as Bunny’s eyes softened. She’d seen this emotion well, she’d been through this state after her brother died. She still got it now; when doing things with the Saints she knew her brother would have loved, or seeing how far they’d come when he was still stuck in betrayal. 

  
  


Slowly, Bunny reached over, placing her hand on top of his. “Eesh wouldn’t want you sitting in guilt Johnny, you know her, she would want you there.” 

  
  


His face turned slightly, his hand squeezing back. “But it don’t feel right.” 

  
  


“It won’t, not for a long time.” She told him, softening her words. “You can’t live your life thinking that it’s wrong because they’re not here to enjoy it; you have to live it knowing that they would want to enjoy it. They stay with you every step of the way, and I know Eesh’s death is fresh, but… it don’t mean you don’t deserve to celebrate life.” 

  
  


“I guess you’re right.” Gat admitted, swallowing. 

  
  


Bunny smirked. “I know I’m right.” She told him. 

  
  


“I don’t think I could do this without you, Boss.” Johnny told her as she looked at him, finding the deep eyes staring back at her. 

  
  


“You give me too much credit, believe me.” He laughed, shaking his head. “If you feel like you’re not enjoying the night, tell me, and we’ll head home. You can crash on the couch or something, I don’t want you feeling like you’re alone.” 

  
  


“Thanks Boss.” 

  
  


“You’re welcome, Gat.” 


End file.
